24 hours

I'm no Jack Bauer, wouldn't sacrifice my life for the sitting President, and my real question is, when does he ever go to the toilet. Why don't tv dramas ever show anyone going to the bathroom? Eating, sleeping, they are there, but never the throne.
In the next 24 hours, I will prepare to leave again. Finally. Two week delay nonewithstanding, it's been a vacation, with some productivity thrown in. Three weekends of dog training, completed one knitting project, ate a lot of things I won't get in China, and read, read, read.
Google is out of sorts in China, I even read that people can't access gmail. Returning to the vacuum.

Get off my chest!

Some things that I just have to write before they take over my subconscious, I don't want any of these things making weird insinuations in my dreams so best to just write them and be done with them, right? Akin to last song syndrome, I better speak now or forever be stuck with them.

In no particular order, or importance:
*Jon and Kate - boo. You have 8 kids who are going to suffer. Put them out of their misery and get real jobs and real lives and get off the tv.
*deaths all around - while I feel for Ed, everyone's focusing on MJ, while FF is off the radar. Pity she and RO'N didn't get hitched, or maybe it's best she didn't.
*the citizens of S. Carolina should impeach their governor, he's a wimp and a hypocrite. Crying in Argentina, double boo. And his wife, seriously? You'd take him back?
*am incensed at the news that the local government has passed a bill to allow greyhound racing in the country, and I do hope by petitioning those dolts, it won't push through. However, the case against the dolphin show in Subic was tossed out, so knowing our lovely government who cares not a whit for animal wellbeing, it will not be easy to sway them not to allow the poor dogs to be run to death, abused, and worse.
*what is it with the increasing number of incorrectly used prepositions all around? I see it in the road signs, tv ads, it's becoming a real annoyance to me anyway. I know most people don't give a rat's ass. Must learn to turn my eyes away.

And what is it about coincidences that lead me to temptation, deliver me from evil damnit! Argh, two sightings that raise thoughts I would like to put aside, one indirect, but one so near I could have touched it. Shivers me timbers, I'm glad I had things to do and didn't give into my first instinct. I may hear the devil on my shoulder but I don't give in, maybe that's why I keep gaining weight though....

Have read with trepidation that Google is under attack by the mainland government, the latter complaining about all the sexual references online, but I will assume it's to "clean up" house before the 60th birthday of the government. I will also have to assume that once I'm there again, whenever that happens, I will not have access to my blog, I begin to wonder if I shouldn't have a backup blog, somewhere else online that I can access that won't be blockaded by government censors. Of course a written, paper-pencil journal will do, and I have many a notebook filled with my illegible jottings. There's always Facebook of course.
I feel a bit like those seafarers between sojourns on board their rickety ships; doing the rounds of all the food places I won't be seeing for awhile, reading as much as I can, tramping up and down favorite spots, playing with the pets, writing, reviewing what I should add to my very bored list of clothing, adding to my dvd collection. There is also a sense of what to path to take next, should this episode not take fruit. What will I end up exploring? Dog training? A job with commercial, ie financial, opportunities? Beach tramp? The possibilities seem endless, if one knows where to look.

Friday rapture

On a blazing hot Friday, I run through the city taking care of errands, paying bills that are long overdue, bringing the dog to the vet for a check-up, having shoes fixed, going down the list of things to bring before I leave, calling the travel agent one more time to check if it's all ok this time. Sigh. I head to one of my regular cafes for a lunch fix and am slightly disappointed with what I have to eat, but the disappointment doesn't sit long, as I'm engrossed, absolutely engrossed in what I'm reading. East of Eden, Steinbeck, he is a god! My goodness, this is amazing stuff, am truly enthralled with his realism, the quirky moments of side stories cutting through the rich batter of his main story, that of the Trasks and Hamiltons. I don't want to rush it, but I think I'll be raring to finish the several hundred pages I have to finish soon. She's just shot him in the shoulder, leaving him and his twins to suffer!

I stand from my lunch table and head in an aimless direction, attracted by the prints in the window; a salesman calls out to come into his store, but I veer into the bakery instead, Jipan, known for it's murphy bread (or is it muffin bread??), a buttery flaky brioche, good for french toast. I cursorily scan the stacks, see some samples on a lower shelf (someone needs to tell the owner how to make her display more appealing), sample something a bit dry and am about to move on when a small sign catches my attention. "Kouin aman", could it be? I see a small sample available to taste, I bite, it's sticky, crunchy, buttery. Oh my. Yes it is. David Lebovitz wrote out a recipe for Kouign Amann in 2005, and here it is in front of me, a few pieces hidden among a large tray of other bready morsels. I buy two of them, along with some large pain de chocolat and what looks like a cinnamon loaf with almonds. I'm carbo loading tonight!

Keeping my eyes peeled

Sign number one: 8th Philippine-Spanish Friendship Day shares the banner space with the 110th anniversar of the Siege of Baler. I learned about what took place in Baler due to the movie that was released in one of the recent local film festivals. Spanish soldiers were under siege by Filipino troops during the war for independence, the Filipinos starved the Spanish out in the church located in the town of Baler (Pampanga?), and their final surrender after months stuck inside the church highlighted the final straw of Spanish control of our first set of colonizers. I find it interesting that they'd use the siege as a counterpoint to the friendship day between the two nations. Is it a bit of a poke in our previous rulers ribs? Or simply the lack of political tact?

Sign number two: SM San Juan (I didn't know SM had a mall in San Juan!) is on sale over a few days this month, but the sign I saw on Ramon Magsaysay Blvd doesn't highlight the mall sale, it states "SALE City of San Juan Selected items..." - if I wasn't paying close attention I would not have seen the logo of SM. Is the city of San Juan not doing that well then? Or have the Estradas decided it's better to have Henry Sy's consortium raise funds for the city?

Dusting off

Father's Day, 2009. When did we become so overwrought over fake holidays? Is it Valentine's Day's fault that we now kowtow to specific days? Or is Hallmark to blame?
In any case, we're off to a FD dinner, which is also an excuse to see how tall the kids have grown, eat too much, and be grumpy later because the favorite tv show was missed (that'll be my mother).
Before I return to the mothership up north, I am revelling in the books I have left from my booksale in February and March. I still have a good number of books left, although I culled the ones I sold carefully, and also portioned some for the consignment store. My mother found an unused bookshelf to stock the books I left behind, with a smaller number stuffed into an old cabinet. I spend a good couple of hours each day, pulling one book or another out, reading a few chapters, feeling a sense of urgency since I know I won't be surrounded by my babies in a few days.
Another baby I abandoned (yes, she is feeling abandoned I tell you!) is my feline companion, who noticeably ignored me when I first got home, but finally deigned to stay with me yesterday, while I puttered about the house. She and the other cat (who is getting very old, but is quite feisty, doesn't enjoy having to share her turf) hiss and snarl when they get within 3 feet of each other, so there's a sense of detente when we know one is approaching the other. Nothing untoward ever happens, they simply express the antipathy of seeing one another, and then one stalks away, ever so upset of the encroachment. I slowly guide my cat into my shared space, and try to keep her occupied for a few hours, including making sure she's not flea bitten. Granted, she's not the most amiable creature, but I do miss her pumpkin/raccoon like features when I'm doing nada in my Chinese abode. Not her hair all over the place, but definitely her presence and her zen like state even in the most distressful times.
The puppy, who isn't so much a puppy as a young female dog, ie bitch, is going back for her uncasting tomorrow, the removal of her cast, the removal of her collar, and hopefully a really good bath. We can't get her cast wet, so we're stuck wiping her down, combing, but the eau de pooch is getting worse. I want to make sure she is in less odorous state before I go. Plus I must decide, snip or not to snip? She had her first mens a couple of months back, and she's likely to go a bit delirious with hormonal changes, not that she has the companionship of any male doggies; if she were to get pregnant, it would likely make my mother fall down to her knees in belief of immaculate conception. And she's not likely to tell me about it either, just like the dog's accident.
Stopped by Legaspi Market this morning, wandered through the stalls to find things to try before I go back. Now that I think about it, the week I left for China in March was punctuated by a trip the Legaspi market as well. Hmmm. Anyway, had chorizo paella, bought some chicken pate from Pamora, and decided to buy some avocados to make guac at home. Why I can't find avocados in China I don't know. Not native perhaps, and maybe the flavor just doesn't rock Chinese people's worlds. Not something I've ever seen in Chinese cuisine for sure, not even avocado shakes. Anyway, some lemon, cilantro, and jalapenos for good measure and I'll be double dipping myself tomorrow when it's all made.
I also bought two sheer embroidered kimonos, a steal for P800; I remember seeing something similar, but far more detailed and lush at a department store, not to mention leaps and bounds more expensive. I figure these loose tops will be a good way to punch up a pair of jeans. Good thing about kimonos: loose sleeves, a nice summery pick me up. A detour to the Aroomatherapy table for a ginger mist spritz and I think I'm ready to head back.

Comfort food

I had what may have been the best chocolate mousse of my life yesterday at La Cabane. Lunch with K and J and A, watching the rains wash the streets clean, cosily ensconced by the window in plushy seats. K was not in tip-top dessert mood, and when faced with choices, we only got two - the mousse and the tarte tatin. I decided on the former by sheer chance of seeing it being served at another table. Over the years I've unfortunately tasted some pallid c/m's, usually lacking in any chocolate flavor, perhaps made with powdered chocolate, and kept firm with gelatin. Blech. La Cabane's c/m was a dark color, and when spooned, you could see the bounce of the eggwhite froth. The flavor was a rush of chocolate, with a hint of brandy or maybe cointreau; it didn't hit you in the face, it was subtle, a slinky taste on the palate. I could imagine eating cup of rich mousse when I've accomplished a good deed for myself, a sweet pat on the back.

That feeling of accomplishment is in short supply these days. My knitting project feels stalled, as the person helping me complete the project is out of town and I don't know how to wrap it up. And just when I thought I'd be done with the to-ing and fro-ing for my visa, there's another hiccup. I steel myself for more hiccups. But I may need a way to vent my frustration very soon. The last thing I need is an ulcer.

What I did discover through reading my last medical checkup details is that I have a fatty liver. My last blood pressure reading shows that I've recovered some ground from the higher than normal rate I noticed earlier this year, my diastolic is down to 80. But I will have to drink more tea, bitter foods like ampalaya, and reduce all the good tasty things in life while I coddle my liver back to health. Well, I can do that in China.

In the meantime, a slice of chocolate cake before I return to where there is no place for cake, or where they put full tomatoes on their cakes. And I may mash up some avocadoes for some guacamole goodness. Topped with bacon!

Jetlag

Staying up till 2 am with friends, bellybuster of a dinner, sleeping the day away (utter lack of anything to do), followed by munching on all the chocolate lace cookies, listening to podcasts on backlog, sleeping in the afternoon, watching a really boring BBC production of Mansfield Park, sleeping at 3 am, waking up at 10 realizing I'm running late for dog training, taking the dreaded step to get all my facial bumps removed, will I sleep early tonight or just attempt to wake up at 6 am tomorrow so I can go to the gym early in the morning, weighed in and found 2 lbs regained erp, not caring enough to skip pork bbq with garlic rice, guilty thoughts over buying a new pair of sandals that I'll have to lug back to China or it'll molder, stressed out over when the darn visa will be released, annoyed at the other visa that I'm going to cut up asap, what will my fb username be - ah go the whole hog, who cares anyway, more walking, less eating, well maybe a few times this week, catch up with friends, spent more on the face products than the procedure, search for cheapflight. More water, less caffeine.

All Sunday, all dog

Last Sunday, I joined my dog training group for a small reunion of sorts. The first batch of trainers were nearly all there, minus L and K, and joined the second batch of trainers to work with some of the new dogs, and for a special case - our very first behavioral analysis of one dog (with owners in attendance). JI plans to get us to build skills towards helping analyze what makes problem dogs tick and it was a great training day for those of us; I wish I could stay on and do more weeks with this side of the program. JI will also be setting up a training academy soon, I'd join it in a heartbeat if I wasn't out of the country.

We also had a mishap with one of the puppies, 9 weeks old, and very bright. I was holding the puppy, and it decided that it was a cat, and leaped out of my arms 4 feet down onto a hard tiled floor. It landed hard, and took a painful spill. We worried it was a dislocated shoulder, but after the vet took the x-ray, we learned it was a sprained muscle. Such relief. With my own dog all bound up and in a cast, I don't think I can take more animal mishaps.

Unfortunately, we witnessed the sorrow of another family whose 10 year old pet had to be put down; a failing kidney and deteriorating health forced them to the painful decision. Owner, yaya, all were keening with sorrow.

We ended the long day at E's home, eating ice cream and talking about the future, observing her own dogs and the new puppy she's training, who was confident and full of puppy joy. Before we left, she showed us just how confident she was, falling into the carp pond, but swimming ably to the side to get herself out of her own predicament if not for E coming to her rescue. I think the humans were far more concerned than the dog! E's black lab decided that a soggy puppy was the perfect patient for his ministering tongue, that dog is a bit OC when it comes to cleaning!

There be stories

In the few days of being home, taking care of some of life's necessities, seeing friends, sharing stories, catching up with life, I have come to a few conclusions:

1. Life in China is a lot better now than it was 15 years ago. When I try to share what little I've learned about my life over the last two months have been like, some of the interesting social/anthropological issues I've encountered, I realize that I must preface it with comparing it to what I experienced when I was studying chinese over a decade ago in Xiamen. The then and now are stark. Where there were no roads, barely any infrastructure, few choices, and a lot less freedom to speak to locals, there are now large freeways, tall buildings sprouting like mushrooms, opportunity to satiate oneself with Asian and Western goods, and open social intercourse. I remember one German friend sharing her paranoia living in an industrial city fifteen years ago in the Western part of China, feeling shadowed every day, finding her things rifled. These days, the government has better things to do, and they prefer harassing foreigners by charging us fees because we are outsiders. Otherwise, it's just business, walang personalahan.

2. Fifteen years have brought changes to the cities, and to the people. They're still very conservative, mind you, and so many traditional ways have returned (or perhaps, like viruses, they were merely latent), but they are less likely to wear drab clothes - instead they've taken to shiny things like Gollum. The brighter, the fluffier, the tackier, the better! They'd paste the sequins on their forehead if they could. And for every brillo pad hairdo, there are tons more women who enjoy letting their tresses shine and glow with natural luster. We used to oggle the complicated superstructures some salesladies would twist their ringlets into, but I haven't seen any of those in a long time. The worst I've encountered so far this year was an older woman who had her bouffant teased, lacquered, and dyed; it looked like a dark blonde caramel candy bird's nest, which did nothing for the rest of her round body shape.

3. I have regular jaw dropping conversations, usually in class. It teaches me so much, and I do appreciate the honesty of those discussions. I won't exploit what the students tell me, it's not for titillation and gossip. They share because they are learning English and they answer my questions because I'm their teacher. They definitely enrich my world view, and understanding of how people think.

4. The China diet, for me, is a success. I weighed in at the gym yesterday, discovered I lost 10 lbs in 10 weeks, and that's including all the bags of potato chips (no, not the weird tasting ones) during feeling-sorry-for-myself moments. I should write a silly diet book: "Eat Potato Chips and Still Lose 10 lbs! Hahahaha! Seriously though, the biggest thrill has been the ability to wear a pair of brown pants that I thought I'd have to sell at the garage sale, I can button it up and there's a couple of inches allowance around the waist too. Yahoo! Chinese food may be one of the greatest culinary choices in the world, but the monotony of eating the same thing day in and day out will chisel away at your appetite.

Access is mine!!

It's been a few weeks since blogger.com sites have been out of the loop in my corner of the world, it is assumed it was the lead in to the 20th anniversary of Tiananmen, and there's hope (of which I am full of no matter what) that when I go back I won't have to look frustrated at my pile of notes, unable to write and get stuff off my chest, for this is ultimately what my blog is, therapy! Heehee

I'm in Manila for a week or two, in what is called Step 3 of my work visa process. I was only informed it was called step 3 yesterday, in between getting off the night bus from Wenzhou to Xiamen, and waiting (to no avail) for documents I was told were on their way from another city. The documents will now be couriered to me in Manila, as I couldn't get the extension I was promised earlier. China's like that, raises your hopes, dashes them, then leads you on towards more hopes and dreams. Sounds like some people I know.

While I'm home, I have a list of things to do: pay bills, haircut, see friends, eat bacon, eat cheese! And Manila laid quite the welcome home last night, Roxas Boulevard was practically a parking lot, the rains pounded the car roofs, the wind ruffled more than a few feathers. I found out that a tree came crashing down on a few cars in my parents family compound, I saw the debris this morning. And my dog, my poor puppy, has had her front right leg in a cast for a few weeks, after an accident, good thing I didn't know about that while I was in China. Suddenly I wished to be back in the ignorance of my Wenzhou existence.

Savings Fail

Coming to China might be considered a big leap, a considerable sacrifice, and perhaps foolhardy to many. I decided to take this adventure since how often will this opportunity come again? I know there are enough reasons not to do something risky, but it's not in the same league as jumping out a plane without checking if the parachute works.

It is however a financial leap, and one that carries a large risk. If I end up not saving anything at all, there goes the last of my savings and I would prefer not to wonder how to recoup everything in my forties. I live considerably leaner and tighter than I did in Manila, and perhaps the choice of city is a good one; this place has little to offer in terms of cultural curiousity.

Each week, I set out a day I call "No spending day," usually a day I spend at home, doing chores, reading, writing, knitting, meditating, listening to music, doodling, daydreaming. Today was meant to be one of those days, but, I failed today's goal. After going through my list of to do's and having fulfilled them to the best of my ability, I figured I should go to the supermarket to get two things I did need. I ate some edamame so I wouldn't be tempted to buy food, and had written down the two things I planned to buy. I ended up lugging home two bags of things, and noting down some interesting items I sure would like to get the next time I have to go to the supermarket (not the next NSD!).

For example, I mentioned to friend J that I saw a whole roasted rabbit in the pre-cooked section of the supermarket (it sat near the whole roasted ducks, and other roasted meats). At 20 yuan per 500 grams, I think that might be quite a gourmet steal for the next group dinner. I believe the rabbit has been roasted in a soy-based marinade, but will have to update this information after I get to taste it. The rabbit looks quite lean, but meaty, this is no tiny bunny.

The other item that caught my eye were little pots of caviar for 60 yuan each. Granted this isn't beluga we're talking about, merely lumpfish or wild alaskan salmon fish roe, but it is a nice little luxury I feel will go well the next time I make poached eggs.

The damage I ran up for the day was pretty much what I planned to spend the entire week. Since most of the items I purchased were food products, there's no reason why I can't just do packed lunches every day. At least till the next NSD.

Back to the wok

Grazing online I saw that Wandering Chopsticks has a weekend wok round up going on, while on EatingAsia, Robyn and Dave shared their recipe for a sausage and cucumber salad that sounds quite delicious. I might make that salad later in the week, all the ingredients are easy to find in my neighborhood markets.
But what caught my attention was the notion of the wok. I grew up with woks around the house, but I knew them as more like your regular frying pans without knowing they had a special name; my mother may have just called them calderos. We had several of varying sizes, most of them were iron or steel, quite heavy and I learned how to make fried rice, eggs, and fried chicken on them when I was a kid. We always used gas burners, the maids only seemed to know one level of heat, and that was high. Took my mother time to get them to understand they could adjust the level of heat, especially if it was a new maid.
Over the years, in different homes in my life, I have had to cook with a variety of heat sources, and in some dorms, we were forced to cook on little electric burners, or built in cookers that didn't cause the fuse to conk out. I can't recall what I was using to cook on in HK, but I shall assume it was an electric burner. And in my last residence in Manila, I made do with an induction burner.
My apartment here in WZ has a small kitchen, just enough for one person to turn around, counterspace is at a premium. But it has two burners, and yes, it is gas. For the first few weeks, I made do with a pot I found in the closet, but I recently bought a rice cooker and a wok. I didn't make a conscious decision to get a wok, I just figured I needed something multi-functional and would work with the style of food I plan to make while I'm here. Again, eat local, eat the style of food available.
In the week I've had my wok, I've used it to make eggs, fried rice, and a quick saute of chillies. Vegetables, some soup, maybe steam up some dimsum one day, all for the future.

Friday follow-up

One chicken gone from the cage (I glared at the three tables full of customers in the restaurant, wondering which one decided the fate of the hapless bird).

Cherries now at 58 renmimbi, about P410 a kilo. Do I wait three more days or give into my urges now? On the other hand, I could buy a kilo of luscious looking bayberries coming into season as I speak for 40 rmb.... And I know they'd be worth every penny!

Tuesday

It's been a quiet couple of days, spring has been particularly pleasant here, and minus a few days of rain, the days are sunny, but cool. This afternoon, I felt a chill entering my bones, threw on a few more layers, and on my walk to a meeting, felt the weak sunshine on my skin. I passed the daily parade of roosters in a cage outside a restaurant; a few weeks ago, they had a rather noisy duck out there too, but he's probably been eaten by now. Three chickens, robust looking beasts, watch the world go by, not knowing they are waiting out their fate.

A couple of corners down the road, I spy an unfamiliar sight. A grey dappled pony, led by his owner. Four or five trike drivers were likewise parked on the sidewalk, making comments about the horse. I don't think the horse was for eating, he looked like he was being brought to show some of the kids in the playschool nearby. He made some indignant noises when he was left by the tree.

Seeing the horse made me think of chinese words, the word for horse "ma" (third tone) is typically used by chinese language teachers when explaining the four tones. Ma (first tone) could refer to Mother; ma (second tone) may refer to the character used for hemp or numbness; ma (third) for horse; and the final tone of ma is normally only used in cursing or ending a interrogative question. We would practice the tones by saying ma four times, differentiating each tone, hopefully clearly, otherwise you're sort of just saying "Your mother's horse, or your mother is a horse."

Another sight on the road today, the local firemen were in training, I suspect they were being tested on speed. How quickly can they connect the hoses to the firetruck, or perhaps how quickly they could unroll the hose... Unlike Western firemen, however, there's nary a hunk among them. Deep sigh.

Tasted a new fruit, what looked to be a large cherry like fruit in a range of colors from green to orange. They're tart, and texture leans towards apricot/plum, with a pit. I'm not overjoyed by them, even though they are juicy enough. Perhaps they'd go well dipped in salt. The fruit store was also selling bing cherries, I nearly went for them until I saw they were 70 renminmbi per kilo (approximately P500 a kilo). I think I'll wait till the end of May, perhaps the cost will drop a bit more. I bought two kiwis instead.

Am fighting off the urge to go to the nearby supermarket and buy a bag of chips. I'm hoping that I can wait it out till 9 so the store will be closed and I won't want to traipse down four flights of stairs in the dark, with only my small flashlight to guide me.

Watched The Reader on dvd yesterday, and found the young actor playing Michael Berg (David Kross) very appealing and sexy. Yeegads, my cougar instincts!

In other news: Long overdue payment for Filipino veterans is included in the US Department of Defense budget. Took the US government 64 years to make a long drawn out situation right.

So ends May 5, 2009.

Smelly moo juice

Last year's melamine milk scandal spotlighted the problem of tainted milk in this part of the world. But what I thought was interesting was the number of people feeding their children milk. Cow's milk to be exact. When I was living here 15 odd years ago, the only milk we could find was soy milk and UHT pasteurized milk (is that redundant? I am too lazy to find out right now.). The latter didn't taste right to the Westerners, although I could care less, so long as it was white and didn't taste beany, as soy milk did. And it wasn't sweetened and watery.

These days, there are "milk bars" with a cowhide (black and white) facade, just to make sure people understand that this ain't no soy milk bar, we are all about the cow, people! One of the other teachers says their milk isn't bad, and gave us a taste a few weeks ago. I was and am still a bit leary about drinking milk here, but I have to weigh the chances of dying of some horrible kidney problem or having brittle bones from the lack of calcium. Hmmm.

After leaving my rented rooms a bit later than normal this morning, I signed in, and decided to go find myself some breakfast. I walked a few blocks, and saw the milk bar, busy with customers. Ok, some milk is calling my name (Mila, moooooo, drink me moooo). I grabbed a bottle, not really reading the bottle, plunked down cash and went back to the office. I unsealed the cap and poured myself a cup. Hmmmm, sniff, sniff, what is that smell? Why does this milk smell like sulphur? I was about to pour it down the drain when I looked at the label and saw this "Egg Milk".... I see. I would have thought eggmilk would be a bit richer, creamier, more eggnoggy. But maybe they just figure people will smell the egginess and think, right, I'm drinking an egg in my milk. Taking a sip, it tastes more like a light condensed milk, not too bad really, but the smell is a tad problematic for me. The ladies at work seem to like it though, so I will leave the bottle for them. Brittle bones, oh my.

New tastes

I am constantly told "you look chinese" and there's an underlying sense of expectation that I speak chinese, not to mention know all there is to know about living in China. I usually shrug my shoulders, try not to confuse the person with explanations about the diverse origins of Chinese Filipinos (overseas chinese is the phrase they understand best, yes, I have returned to the motherland, comrade!), and move the discussion to another track. As for speaking, they usually realize my chinese is still a work in progress, although one of my students said it wasn't bad (hahahaha).

One of the aspects of living in China that I'm going to do more of is tasting different specialties, depending on the region. Wenzhou is more of a seafood town, and I've been told their fish is very good. Strolling through town on days off, I normally spy a diner selling "fish balls" or "fish ball soup", this makes me think of our own fish balls at home, which look like balls! Here, they don't, more like fish nuggets, or rolled up willy nilly and plopped into a bowl of slightly acidic (vinegar probably) broth and a sprinkle of green onions. It is a very fishy taste, no ginger to mask that sense of, yes, you are eating fish. I can imagine that this wouldn't be a favorite among non-chinese eaters, who don't revel in the smell of fish. I would prefer some ginger myself but all you get for a side dish is some pickled cabbage at best.

Among food blogs, Appetite for China has been my go to source for good eats in China. Diana Kuan has been cooking and teaching in China for a couple of years now, at her base in Shanghai. Through her blog, I was alerted to the mulberry season, and managed to find the first fruits in the market near my apartment. They look like elongated blackberries, but the flavors are quite mild, somewhat astringent. Be prepared for stained fingers that won't wash out easily. She recently posted about grass jelly, a black gelatin that is supposed to be good for the health. I've had it in the past with coffee, but didn't think too much about it. I'm now having a couple of tablespoons mixed into my tea steeped drink, slathered with a healthy dollop of condensed milk. A pleasant way to start my morning while I read the morning news online.

The apartment complex has all sorts of vendors, and yesterday afternoon, I came across a mobile cart selling what looked like sushi. The man placed a sheet of dry nori (seaweed), had a large container of rice, and smaller buckets of pork floss, shredded cucumbers, peanuts, pickles and fried dough. It's sort of like the California roll, but no avocado. For 3 renmimbi (P21), you get a large roll, made while you wait, a tasty snack or light lunch.

There are some things that aren't Chinese at all, but make my heart palpitate in happiness. When you live in another country, you try to eat as local as possible, but after awhile you miss things from home or whatever makes your tastebuds nostalgic. I told friends recently that I was thrilled to see a Haagen-Dazs cafe here, they have most of my favorite flavors, and quite a dessert menu. They have this special tea set with cute little ice cream sandwiches on a tea caddy, three stacks high. I've taken refuge there once after a long walk and it was pleasant to sit watching people walk by. Yesterday, I discovered that Beard Papa has opened its first outlet in town. A complete surprise and since it's still in its early days, the pastry puff is still light and crisp, unlike the puffs in Manila that have turned all dense and bready. What I am eyeing in the Beard Papa store is the adorable bento box carrier they have in the display. Bright yellow with the cartoon face of Beard Papa on it, I must have it for my bento collection.

I have a lot more taste exploring to do!

Hop on the bus, gus

8 hours to Xiamen, 8 hours to Shenzhen, 16 hours back to Wenzhou. All for four stamps on my passport. Whee.

What can I say about the sleeping buses of this wonderful country? There are the sleeping pallets, a cot that wouldn't fit anyone beyond 5'7" and whose top bunks I really don't like clambering up on. There are the quilts and questionable pillows; do they ever get washed? I suspect not. There are the passengers, a majority are men, mostly adults (haven't had the pleasure of a vomiting child next to me yet, oh dear, I just know that now I've thought of it, I'm bound to have one the next time around), and not too many (if any) foreigners. I was probably the only non-Chinese on all the buses I've taken thus far and I don't stick out too much if I don't open my mouth and ask questions. The other aspect of my fellow passengers is the basic level of hygiene they observe. There's no telling who is going to take their shoes off and perfume the air with foot-halitosis (you must take your footwear off at the time you get on the bus, and place them in a plastic baggy. That reduces the amount of dirt tracked in on the buses, but not necessarily reduces odor problems.).

Finally the bus drivers and conductors - most of them are quite solicitous, demanding, and helpful when needed. One steward made sure I was heading in the right direction at Shenzhen, and the bus drivers always recommended I put my backpack into the luggage compartment. I would still take it inside with me, and use it to protect me against any pallet bugs that the last passenger may have left behind.

Over the last 10 years China has built up its road system, the highways are laid out, north to south, east to west and so on. What might have taken me a day to get to in 1996 now only requires 8 hours. If I took the train, it would take me 12 hours. So I chose the bus as my form of coast to coast travel, even with horrible memories of being bounced around for hours, being pecked at by my neighbor's chickens, or hearing the sound of a child puking me behind me. Since the advent of the sleeper buses, there's a bit more room and no chickens have clouded the door of my trips so far. But the last couple of days, I've truly wondered if I have the strength to deal with any more nauseatingly foul body odor, smoking (which turns out to mask the smell of feet if only for a couple of minutes or two), and bus toilets. Here are a few lessons I must remember for future trips:

1. Wear long pants, long socks, and long sleeve shirts. Not merely to add a layer of protection against the linen on the bus, but because they love blasting the ac even if it's 10 degrees celcius outside. A couple of layers helps, and something like a hat to cover the head is doubly useful.
2. Bring the ipod portable charger, there isn't anywhere to plug in the usb charger.
3. The public bathroom at the midway point isn't as bad as I have come to expect, definitely much better than trying to balance oneself over the hole in the bus lav while the bus is roaring down the interstate.
4. One Snickers bar is insufficient caloric input on an 8 hour journey. The salad lunch at the Helena May (muchisimas gracias to J!) on the other hand kept me from rushing towards a bowl of murky soup at 10 pm (a third of the way into the 16 hour leg).
5. The name of the bus station doesn't necessarily mean it's in the same district. Case in point, Shenzhen has a few large bus stations, and the one I needed to find to head back north, Futian Bus Station, wasn't in Futian District, rather it was in some other part of town. Imagine my near heart attack at getting to the end of the line (on the Shenzhen subway), believing I was at the right area only to be told that I would have to get back on the train and head in the other direction. WTF!!!! Amazing Race, believe you me. I had to catch a 5 pm bus, and it was 4:50 pm.
6. Have a sense of humor and imagination. They're sorely lacking at midnight but as one sensible and wise man said, if you lose your temper, then you are merely showing the lack of insight into yourself.
7. Endeavor to create a smell barrier that will reduce the feeling of gagging when the smell of ripe feet or even more foul bathroom aromas penetrate one's consciousness. I bet I could make a fortune if I found something like that.

In the meantime I am back in the comfort of my temporary home, washed and disinfected my travel clothes, and glad not to have to go forth and stamp for another few weeks.

What if...

I recall watching a Richard Pryor movie sometime in the 80's where Mr. Pryor was given a gazillion dollars with a rather big catch - he had to spend all of it in one month! If he did, he would win even more gazillions of moolah; if he didn't he would lose everything he bought and go back to the tedium of his previous life (something very pedestrian I'm sure). Sometimes when I'm filled with ennui, I imagine that scenario - you get a call from some company that tells you "we've chosen you for this task: spend $100 million dollars in one month, and if you manage, you will be given a billion dollars!" - what type of stuff could you waste all that money on?

For the foodie in me, there's a list of the 8 most outrageous (but a few of them are quite pretty) kitchen gadgets, including an 18 karat white gold screwdriver, and an artsy wave grill. The one that I want right now is the TurboChef, which I thought they promoted on Iron Chef America, since how do they manage to make those dishes in less than an hour without the help of some superduper fast ovens? I think all kitchens should have one! Maybe with my imaginary loot, I'd buy myself one and get all my cooking obsessed friends one too! That way if I lose the bet and don't end up with the bazillions, I can still go to their apartments and broil a turkey in an hour!

My knees go weak

"Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

"The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me - perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

"Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

"But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours - always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

"Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again."

- Sullivan Ballou, 1829-1861